


Another Way

by Viridian Pen (DaronwyK)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Harry Potter, Dark Hermione Granger, Dumbledore Bashing, F/M, Good Severus Snape, Sane Voldemort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 06:31:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12270822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaronwyK/pseuds/Viridian%20Pen
Summary: After the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, Hermione Granger receives an offer she can't refuse, and it leads her on a journey she never anticipated. Along the way she starts to question things she always held as fact, and fights to save both Harry and herself from the coming storm.





	1. The Offer

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a one-shot for an HP writing competition on FF. A few friends have coaxed me into expanding on this. Be forewarned that this will be dark, warnings will be added as they become applicable.

**o.o.O.o.o**

 

Hermione was sitting outside under one of the big oaks down by the Black Lake. She was currently at Hogwarts, still recovering from her brush with death at the hands of Antonin Dolohov. Professor Snape had been in charge of her recovery, having infinitely more experience with dark curses than Madam Pomfrey. It had been nearly three weeks since the other students had left, and she was currently taking ten different potions a day to heal the damage done to her body, and to prevent the curse from becoming active again. It was still flaring up from time to time. She'd finally been given permission to go for short walks, so she was soaking up the warmth and sunshine.

 

A barn owl swooped down, landing lightly beside her. It had a letter for her. She cast a quick spell over it, checking for anything nasty. Ever since the mess in fourth year, that had become a habit with strange owl post. She still got the odd letter with curses or unpleasant substances on them. Every single time one showed up, she regretted not squashing Rita Skeeter like the insect she was. The letter was clean. "Sorry I don't have anything for you,"� she apologized to the owl and took the letter. It merely ruffled its feathers in annoyance and took off again.

 

She turned the letter over in her hands. It was sealed with black wax, a stylized letter 'S' set into it. She broke the wax seal and pulled out the letter. The handwriting was incredibly elegant, and she found herself quite curious about the contents.

 

_Miss Hermione J Granger,_

_I decided it was time to speak directly to you, in light of the unpleasantness at the Ministry a few weeks ago. You have my sincere apologies for the injuries you sustained. I fear Bellatrix unnecessarily escalated the situation, resulting in the injuries to you and your classmates. Now, before you discard this letter out of hand let me be perfectly clear that your life, and the lives of your parents who currently reside at Number 312 Sheldon Avenue, Heathgate, do most assuredly hang in the balance._

_While I could most certainly liberate my followers from their current imprisonment, I find it more useful to leave them there to contemplate their failures for the time being. Your mere survival of that night alone would be enough to merit my attention, as Dolohov is a master duelist and not easily overcome. Yet after hearing so many tales of your academic prowess and uncanny ability to solve the many problems that come your friend's way, I had my people dig into your records. You can imagine my surprise to find that in the years since my attendance at Hogwarts, you are the first to come close to matching my accomplishments. I assure you, those two things combined guarantee that you have my undivided attention._

_While many of my followers espouse the supposed superiority of their pure blood, I have found over the last century that the finest minds have been of somewhat mixed ancestry. I have always favoured ability over any other consideration, and you have most certainly proven your skills to be far above the norm. The common opinion is that you should have been sorted into Ravenclaw, and I honestly find myself rather curious as to how you came to represent the lion's house. Your achievements point to a deep desire to know and understand the very nature of magic, and achieve heights previously unfathomable to most. You desire to be the very greatest witch of the age, not just Harry Potter's clever Muggleborn friend. That is all you will ever be to him, to the Order, and those that consort with that crowd. You'll be rewarded with a pat on the head, marriage to one of the Weasley brood, and some menial job at the Ministry just to let them claim they are inclusive of those like you._

_I can offer you so much more, Miss Granger. I can offer you unfettered access to any topic you desire to immerse yourself in. Tutelage from the very greatest minds in any given field. I can extend my personal protection to you and your family, something I am well aware the Order has not even seen fit to discuss with you. Certainly they have invited you to join them in safe location, because you are useful to the Potter boy, but not because they have any true care for you or your family. Have they even once spoken to you about the possibility of laying wards at your home, and their place of work to shield them from the attentions of my followers? I doubt it._

_I realize the boy means something to you, either as a friend or perhaps something more. I cannot speak to what lurks in your mind, only in his. His mind is an open book to me, and there is nothing I cannot take from it. Surely you see that he is hopelessly outmatched, and that it seems most conspicuously by design. Your beloved Headmaster is not all you seem to think he is. He has been preparing for my return since the night I disappeared, and yet he left his greatest weapon to be abused and neglected. He allows him to fumble his way along, offering only half-truths and a smattering of information when he is forced to reveal it. He allows children to fight his war for him, and does not protect any of you. You are quite disposable to him Miss Granger, do not fool yourself into believing otherwise._

_Come to me willingly, Hermione. Come to me and I will give you protection, knowledge, power, and respect. I will make all those lesser minds crawl to you, begging for your approval. All this I offer you, and all I ask in return is your willing submission to me. Do this and you have my word, on my magic, that I will never task you with harming the Potter boy. That is one thing I will not demand of you._

_Consider my words, and in due time I will contact you. You will have only one chance to make your choice Miss Granger, so when the time comes consider your options carefully. You're an intelligent witch, and I would truly hate to kill someone with such promise._

_Lord Voldemort_

Hermione folded the letter up, her face very pale. Every ounce of her heart rebelled at the mere thought of doing as he asked, but her mind was screaming at her that some of what he said made sense. She felt quite ill, stomach roiling in discomfort. For the first time in her life she had absolutely no idea what she was going to do.


	2. Chapter 2

Severus watched Miss Granger across the dinner table. She'd been acting very strangely since returning from her walk this afternoon. "Is your scar bothering you tonight?"� he finally asked, trying to discern why she looked so pale and drawn.

 

"No, it's fine."� She said, pushing her plate away. She'd left her meal mostly untouched. "I just had a bad dream when I dozed off by the lake." Hermione sighed. 

 

"Do you wish to discuss it?"� He asked. He was not often the person people came to with such things, but at the moment he was well aware the young women had no one else she could speak to. As Head of Slytherin there had been many times when he'd needed to be someone's confident, simply because there were no other options.

 

"I dreamt that Voldemort killed my parents." She said softly.

 

Severus winced automatically. "Please do not use that name, Miss Granger."� He said and rubbed his temple. "There is a telephone in Hogsmeade, if you wish we could go tomorrow and you could call your parents. Would that help?"� He asked.

 

"I'd like that Professor, thank you. I think I'm just going to head to bed a little early."� She said and stood. "Goodnight Sir."�

 

"Miss Granger, drink both those vials first."� He reminded her about the two bottles by her hand.

 

"Of course, sorry Professor."� She said and drank them down before escaping to her room. The castle had added a separate room to the Professor's quarters for her. It had been a little uncomfortable for the first week, just on principal, but the Professor had been nothing but a consummate gentleman and she found his company rather soothing. He'd been kind enough to allow her to read his personal books, with certain restrictions. Most nights found them reading quietly by the fire together, but tonight she didn't think that she could hide just how upset she was.

 

Hermione sat down on the bed and tried to still her mind, but it felt like it was working a breakneck speed. If the threats had just been against her it would have been different, but this directed at her parents. She felt tears welling up just thinking about it. She was still under-aged and had no way to protect them without violating the rules against under-aged wizardry. Voldemort was right; no one had given a second thought to their protection, even when she had tried to ask the Headmaster about it that night in the Hospital Wing. Looking back she realized he had said that he was regretful that she'd been hurt, but never actually apologized for his part in it.

 

Her mind spun around and around that fact. She'd gotten an apology from Voldemort, albeit written and likely insincere, but still an apology. The Headmaster couldn't even be bothered to fake an apology for her. She'd nearly died because he'd spent a whole year avoiding telling Harry the truth. She'd nearly died because Harry wouldn't listen to her. She felt tears spilling down her cheeks as that night rushed back to her. They were CHILDREN fighting a war they had no business being in. She stood and wiped at the tears angrily. She hated that she was even considering taking that... **thing** up on his offer. What was WRONG with her?

 

There had to be a way to stop this without Harry dying. There just had to. Maybe she could reason with Voldemort, convince him that he didn't need to do this. She laughed bitterly at the very idea. There was no way to make this anything but a betrayal of Harry and all he was fighting for. If she went to Voldemort, she was turning on her best friend. She needed to be honest with herself about that. Could she really value her life, the lives of her family, above Harry's? A dark little voice in the back of her head whispered that Harry had valued Sirius' life above hers, above all of the DA's. She left the bedroom and all but ran to the bathroom throwing up violently.

 

Severus followed the girl in, his book tossed forgotten onto his chair. His sense of alarm was growing as he took in her pallor, and the visible shaking of her entire body. This was not the response to a bad dream. In all honesty he had been expecting a major breakdown at some point. She had nearly died, and everyone responded to that in different ways. When she finished retching, he got a damp cloth for her to wipe her mouth. "Just sit a moment, and let the nausea pass."� He advised, seeing a true depth of despair in her eyes. Yes, everything had just hit her like runaway hippogriff.

 

She closed her eyes and just sat there on the cool tile of the bathroom, trying to come to grips with the choices in front of her. "Can I ask you something Professor?"� She finally said, opening her eyes and looking at the man across from her. She knew Harry didn't trust him, hated him even, but she did. He was caught in the middle, and even if she didn't know where his ultimate loyalties lay, she did know that he understood both sides of this fight. Probably better than anyone else alive.

 

"Of course, Miss Granger. I will try and be honest with you, if I can."� Severus said.

 

"Can Harry win?" She asked softly, afraid that Voldemort was right, deathly afraid that the answer was no.

 

Severus let out a sigh. "I don't know." It was the truest answer he was capable of giving her. "As he is now, no. All we can do it try and keep him alive long enough for him to grow stronger, and learn what he needs to." He said.

 

Hermione closed her eyes. "I told him we should wait. That we should give you time to contact the Order. He wouldn't listen to me, I tried!"

 

"You cannot control what he does Miss Granger, no one can. You did the best you could in an impossible situation."� He said quietly. "The important thing is that you are alive."�

 

"No thanks to him." She whispered, a wave of guilt slamming into her for even thinking that. "I know he lost Sirius, but I can't get past how angry I am. He nearly got us all killed. It's only luck that Dolohov didn't kill me, and I know it's only a matter of time before he's back on the loose. I know he'll come after me again, just for the simple fact that I survived."�

 

Severus realized in that moment just how grave an error Potter had made. It was common knowledge that Miss Granger was the brains of their little band of heroes, and he had effectively lost her. She might not turn on him, but she would never trust him again. He highly doubted whether she would ever put her life in danger for him again. The girl truly was a Ravenclaw sorted into the wrong house. Her trust betrayed once, she would see no logic in risking it again. "You aren't wrong in your assumption, Dolohov is a vindictive man. When the times comes, I will give you what help I can."� He said, hoping to perhaps keep her allegiance to the Order, if not Harry himself.

 

Hermione felt a strange calm settle over her. "Thank you Professor, for your honesty. I should try and get some sleep."� She said softly, realizing that she didn't really have a choice. None of them could protect her and her family. She would have to do it herself.

 

Severus nodded and stood, offering her a hand up. He handed her a vial of light blue liquid. "This should help you sleep, Miss Granger. It's not dreamless sleep, but it won't interact negatively with any of your other potions."� The strange calm on her face worried him more than anything else she could have done. It hinted that she'd come to some decision, and he couldn't parse out what it was yet.

 

"Thank you, goodnight Sir."� She said and left the bathroom, going back to her room and taking the potion. She undressed and curled into bed, the letter playing prominently in her thoughts as she surrendered to sleep.

 

o.o.O.o.o

 

Severus had been summoned before the Dark Lord. He tried to push the strangeness of this week out of his mind. His house guest was still quiet and withdrawn, but his concern for her had no place here. The Dark Lord's patience for his fascination with mudblood witches would not be well received. He swept into the drawing room at Malfoy Manor, and went directly down to one knee. So far the Dark Lord had not forced Draco to accept the Dark Mark and that worried him, it hinted that the Dark Lord had other plans. He'd been different since the Department of Mysteries, a strange kind of focus on his face.

 

"Ah Severus, rise and walk with me."� He said and headed out of the room, going out into the grounds.

 

"What did you require of me, my Lord?"� He asked respectfully as they headed out into the dark garden, only moonlight illuminating their path.

 

"Tell me about the Granger girl."� He commanded. "You mentioned you had been tasked with her recovery."�

 

"Her wounds are healed, and she will likely require potions for the remainder of the month to ensure the curse remains dormant."� He reported, keeping his surprise off his face. What did the Dark Lord care for a single mudblood girl?

 

"And her state of mind?"� He pressed.

 

"She was handling things quite well until this last week. I was waiting for it to hit her, and it did. She's been quiet and withdrawn for a few days now, and is very worried about the possibility of Dolohov coming after her to finish what he started."0� He reported, mentally apologizing to the girl for betraying her confidence. "She has expressed concerns about the boy's chances of winning."� He added. Since her break down the other night she had been completely shut off from him.

 

"As well she should."� He replied, inwardly pleased. "How comes your work on the potion to restore my body?"� He asked.

 

"Nearly complete my Lord. I would need some of your blood to finish it." He said.

 

"Once you have my blood, how long will you require to produce the finished potion?"�

 

"Two days, perhaps a little less."� He said, having actually enjoyed the challenge of reversing the negative effects from the resurrection. He'd not had a truly difficult potion to create in a long time.

 

"You will complete it here. Leave the girl whatever potions she will require for the time you must be away." The Dark Lord said, a dark grin crossing his lips. "I grow impatient to be free of this incomplete form."�

 

"Yes, my Lord." He said, mentally cursing that he'd need to leave Miss Granger alone in his private rooms for two days. There was no help for it unfortunately, he needed to keep in the Dark Lord's graces. "I'll return tomorrow morning, if that is sufficiently soon enough?"

 

"I will expect you before breakfast." He said firmly. "You may go Severus."� He dismissed him and continued to walk through the garden.

 

Severus bowed and retreated, feeling very off balance. He seemed more like the Dark Lord Severus had known back when he'd been a young man, controlled and calculating. If he truly regained his full senses, he would be that much harder to defeat. He kept those thoughts locked deeply beneath his Occlumency shields. Something that had happened that night in the Ministry had shifted things, and Severus had never been a man who liked unknowns. Albus had told him that the Dark Lord had briefly possessed Harry, attempting to take control of his mind. Albus believed it had ultimately failed but Severus had his doubts now. He knew the strength of the Dark Lord's mind, and he was now intimately acquainted with Potter's. There was no way that Potter could have driven the Dark Lord out...unless he'd wished to go. If he'd willingly released the boy, there was a reason. He'd found something in his mind that convinced him to let go and alter his course. That something worried at Severus, now more than ever. 

 

 


	3. Seeking Truth

Being a former Headmaster's portrait had the tendency to be a bit dull over the years. From time to time, however, things could get truly interesting. The current Headmaster was, in his humble opinion, a complete disgrace to the school and the office. He ignored or delegated all of his responsibilities to his Deputy Headmistress, and spent his days plotting his shadow war against the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort. Many of his soldiers in this little conflict were children, his own students. That was something Phineas could not abide. He'd seen firsthand this summer the truly horrifying results of throwing children against seasoned wizards. One of those children was still here within the castle, in the quarters of Slytherin's current Head of House no less. She was a strange thing for a Gryffindor, and it was not the first time she had caught his eye.

 

Severus kept a smaller portrait of his in his sitting room, so it allowed him to observe the girl without being terribly obvious about it. She was clearly very intelligent, and had been struggling with the aftermath of her battle wounds. She had been reading voraciously the last few two days, in Severus' absence from the castle. He returned to the empty Headmaster's office and looked at the Sorting Hat. "I have a query for you, Hat." He finally said.

 

The Sorting hat opened its brim and looked over at the stuffy, former Headmaster. "What does the illustrious Headmaster Black require of me?" He asked.

 

"I have questions, about a student. A Gryffindor girl, who does not fit what I know of the House." He said.

 

"Yes, that one was quite a conundrum." The Hat mused. "Flatly refused both Houses I suggested to her, demanding I place her in Gryffindor. A more horrid fit I could not have imagined for the girl, but children do love to argue with me. Never mind that I have the Founders woven into my magic, and I know a fair bit more than they do." It sounded quite put out.

 

Where did you wish to place the girl?"

 

"Her best fit would have been in Slytherin, if one can discount her bloodline. Failing that, I offered her Ravenclaw. It has long been the refuge of the more clever Serpents that fear the stigma of that house. The ambition in the little witch was astounding, even at eleven years old she was determined to become the greatest witch since Morgana."

 

"Why would she demand to be placed in Gryffindor then?" Phineas frowned, quite insulted for his house that such a mind should have been denied them. Mudblood Slytherins were a rarity, but those that survived their trial by fire in the dungeons always emerged well-honed and deadly. It was not unusual to get three or four a century. 

 

"Because Dumbledore was a Gryffindor." The amusement was palpable. "She was convinced that he was the greatest wizard in the world, and she was going to follow the path that led him there."

 

"Snakes never fare well in Gryffindor Tower." Phineas' frown deepened.

 

"Not alone, but she found solace with the other that hides there." The hat said sadly. "Both so afraid of the very thing that could help them win this war. Desperate to conceal who they truly are."

 

"The Potter boy?" He looked incredulous. Surely not!

 

"Indeed. He hungers to be known and valued for his own accomplishments, not the accident of his birth. The depths of his rage are truly frightening, and I fear for the day that he loses his grip on it."

 

"I thank you for the information." Phineas withdrew, his mind thinking hard on things. He returned to the Portrait in Severus' chambers and watched the girl. She had parchment strewn around her and then he saw what she was writing.

 

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies._

 

"It just doesn't make any sense." She muttered to herself. Harry had come to see her the morning before he'd left Hogwarts. He'd shared the prophecy with her, after making her promise to never reveal it to anyone else. It was dangerous knowledge, but he trusted her with it.

 

"Because that is not the true prophecy." Phineas finally spoke, a little surprised he'd been able to. The magic of the castle prevented the portraits from revealing the secrets of the current Headmaster, unless he had violated his duty of care. That the Castle was allowing him to speak spoke to how far Albus had fallen from his oaths.

 

Hermione's head snapped up. "But Harry was very clear about the wording when he told it to me."

 

"I am quite certain he was, young scholar, but he was not told the truth either. Note that the Headmaster shared this information with your friend only after the official copy of the prophecy had been destroyed." Phineas said.

 

Hermione paled. "Why would he make this up?"

 

"Can you think of no reason why it would be beneficial for Mr. Potter to believe that it was fated for him to kill the Dark Lord, or be killed by him?" He raised an eyebrow.

 

Hermione just nodded quietly, feeling bile rising at the back of her throat. "Of course I can, I just...his keeping the truth from Harry this year is the reason Sirius died, and the reason we were all put in danger. I just hoped that this once he'd told him the truth." She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. "Do you know the original Prophecy?"

 

"I do not...but I know where he placed the memory of the night he heard it." Phineas said.

 

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "Where is it?"

 

"In his office. The headmaster is away from the school, this is the best time for you to retrieve it." He said.

 

"But I'll be seen." She said.

 

"You can ask the castle to assist you." He grinned darkly. "Listen carefully girl, and make sure you repeat these words exactly when you reach the gargoyle." He proceeded to hand her a phrase that would gain the assistance of the castle, under certain circumstances. It was not something he could share at will, only when Hogwarts felt that the cause was just.

 

Hermione slipped out of Professor Snape's quarters, ghosting along the corridors. It was eerie being in the castle during the summer. The only ones that lived here year round, that she could tell, were Professor Snape, that ditz Trelawney, Filch, and Hagrid. The others would pop in from time to time, but for the rest of the summer break the rooms stood empty.

 

She stood before the gargoyle and took a deep breath. If she were caught, there would be no way to explain what she was doing. She was acting against the Headmaster's interests, as well as breaking the rules he'd set for her this summer. She placed her hand on the Gargoyle and closed her eyes. "I seek knowledge obscured, and truths twisted. I call upon the Founders and Hogwarts itself to conceal me on my quest. If this Seeker be worthy, answer my call." She spoke clearly, visualizing what she was after. Phineas had told her exactly where to find the tiny vial with the memory, and how to access the Headmaster's pensieve.

 

There was a moment where nothing happened and Hermione was convinced that it hadn't worked, when the Gargoyle yielded and opened. She rode the staircase up and stepped into the Headmaster's office. As she entered she saw all the portraits were shadowed, as if a shroud had been placed over them. She walked across the room to a glass cabinet where vial after vial of silvery memory was displayed. Then she walked past it to a small carved wooden box. She cast a quick detection spell over it and found nothing. She opened the box and lifted the glass vial out, walking over to the cabinet where the pensieve was hidden. She tipped the memory in and then leaned forward, falling down into it.

 

_The private room at the Hogs Head was as disgusting and filthy as she remembered it. Professor Dumbledore was sitting across from a much younger Sibyl Trelawney conducting an interview. She listened as the woman stuttered and tried to make claims about her accuracy and Hermione could clearly see that Professor Dumbledore was just humoring her. He was trying to wrap things up when Trelawney pitch forward, hair falling down over her face._

 

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..." Her voice was deeper, almost gravelly in tone. It make Hermione's hair stand on end. "Born to those that have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal but he shall have a power the Dark Lord knows not." She kept speaking._

_Hermione watched her Headmaster as he leaned forward, eyes glittering with a kind of hunger._

 

_"He shall have the power to make war and ensure the destruction of all...or the power to seek peace and heal the wounds of old wrongs...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..." Then it was like a light switch had been flipped and Trelawney began to hack and cough._

_She watched Professor Dumbledore sit back, his expression guarded as he watched the young witch across from him sip water to soothe her throat. He offered her a position at the school, reassuring her that all her needs would be tended to._

Hermione came back to herself, out of the memory and felt cold straight through to her bones. She quickly pulled the memory out and put it back exactly as she'd found it. She carefully closed the cabinet around the pensieve and headed out of the Headmaster's office. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she made her way back down to the dungeons and into Snape's quarters. That one little line changed everything.

 

"Did you find what you sought?" The voice from the portrait asked her as she sat down and tried not to be sick.

 

"Yes. He changed one line, one line that changes everything." She whispered. "It warns that war will bring destruction to everything...but also says that peace is possible. Why would he want to assure war when the cost is so high?" She looked at the sharp aristocratic features of Phineas Black.

 

"Sometimes young one, when you have been fighting against someone, or something for so long, you become blind in your pursuit of victory. No cost is too high, no length too great. I fear that Albus has lost sight of what is truly important, and that is why the Castle is allowing me to help you." He said. "Keep this knowledge safe, and reveal it at the opportune moment to those that need to know."

 

"I will." She said quietly.

 

"I suggest getting some sleep, and burn any evidence that you were working on the prophecy." He said and disappeared from the portrait.

 

She gathered up all her papers and put them into the fire, watching it burn away. The prophecy suggested that peace was possible, if Harry chose it. They didn't have to fight to the death. Sirius hadn't needed to die. She felt tears in her eyes as she headed back to the little room that was hers. They had to stop this madness. The only question was how?

 

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 

Severus returned to Hogwarts and felt the weariness settle into his bones. Two days of non-stop brewing, and then the agonizing six hours of watching over the Dark Lord while the potion restored his body and fixed the deficits of the initial resurrection potion. The man they now followed looked as handsome as he had back before the first war had broken out. His master was at least pleased with him, and had graciously told him he would have a week or two before being summoned again.

 

He entered his rooms and smiled, seeing his summer house guest reading by the fire. "I trust you had no issues while I was gone Miss Granger?" He asked.

 

"None at all Professor Snape, are you all right?" She asked, sitting up a bit.

 

"Quite well, just tired." He said. "What are you reading?"

 

"Just some advanced Arithmancy," She smiled at him.

 

"Bridget Wenlock I assume." He chuckled, it was a favourite of his. He had no great talent for Arithmancy but he did enjoy trying to reason out the more complex formulas.

 

"Yes Sir." She said.

 

"Well, if you require anything I'll be getting a little rest. I'll see you at dinner Miss Granger." He said politely.

 

"Of course Professor." She said and watched him disappear down the hallway. He didn't seem any worse for wear than he had when he'd left beyond being tired. She found herself feeling antsy, wondering when Voldemort would approach her. Now that she'd made her decision, AND had the true prophecy, the waiting was almost intolerable. She closed her book and decided to take a walk by the lake to try and ease her anxiousness. She left a note for Professor Snape, just in case he woke before she returned.

 

Hermione headed out of the castle, pausing a moment just outside the main doors and letting the soft breeze play over her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, taking in the scent of the wildflowers growing on the hill. She headed down the steps and went towards the lake. The sun was playing off the water and she let a sense of calm steal through her. Knowing about the Headmaster's deception had helped reaffirm her decision to accept the Dark Lord's offer. The true prophecy claimed that peace was possible, that everyone didn't have to die. What was a little groveling in the grand scheme of things? She could swallow her pride and kneel before that monster. To save her family, and herself, she could do it.

 

She spotted an owl heading for her and she knew it was from him. She held out her arm and the petite pygmy owl offered her the envelope. She had taken to carrying treats in her cloak since the arrival of the last letter. She offered it to the bird and it promptly took off again. She headed over to sit on a log. She broke the now familiar black seal and something fell out of the envelope and into her lap. It was a simple silver charm on a green ribbon. She opened the letter.

 

_Miss Hermione J Granger,_

_I do hope that you have had ample time to think on my offer. I will summon Severus to me again in two weeks, on the evening of July 19 th. Once he has left the castle hold the charm in your hand tightly and say 'Portus'. It will take you to a secure location where one of my Death Eaters will meet you and escort you to me. They will be under explicit order to ensure that you come to absolutely no harm, as such you will have nothing to fear from them. If you do not arrive to meet my escort, I will take that as a rejection of my ever so generous offer. While I respect your right to refuse me, be assured that the consequences will be both swift and severe. However, I do hope very much to have the pleasure of your company that evening. There is much we have to talk about. _

_Lord Voldemort._

Hermione tucked the charm into her pocket and swallowed thickly past the lump in her throat. This was really happening.

 

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

 

Severus entered his rooms and found Hermione reading one of his less...innocuous books. He'd given her permission to read from his other bookcase, providing she informed him of what exactly she was reading. She had exhausted his more mainstream books and she still had at least another week or so before she was finished her potions regimen. His truly dark texts were in his bedroom, so he felt little remorse in letting her delve a little deeper than perhaps Albus would approve of.

 

"Miss Granger, I believe you've been waiting for this letter." He handed her a letter from the Ministry.

 

Hermione smiled and set the book on warding aside and took the letter with her O.W.L. results. She opened it and took a deep breath, nervous for the results. She felt her jaw drop and she shook her head. "NO!" She threw the letter down, glaring at it furiously. "That bloody BITCH."

 

Severus blinked. "Language, Miss Granger." He picked up the fallen letter and saw what had angered her so much. She'd achieved ten Owls, nine of them with Outstandings, but a single Exceeds Expectation in DADA. "There is no cause to be so upset Miss Granger, such results are exemplary."

 

"It should have been perfect, but that pink bloody toad ruined it." She had never hated anyone like she hated Dolores Umbridge. It was an all-encompassing fury. "Don't you get it? She came here to keep us from learning and she did." She stood and paced. "Other than Professor Lupin, and strangely enough Barty Crouch, we haven't had any decent defense instructors. We had to teach ourselves this year, just to have a chance of passing." She felt tears in her eyes.

 

Severus went over and touched her arm gently. "And you did an exemplary job Miss Granger. You will be proud to know that this year's Defense Owl was one of the highest scoring in nearly twenty years. No doubt in part to your efforts alongside Mr. Potter's." He had grown rather fond of the young witch over the last weeks.

 

She just shook her head and sighed. "I'm sorry Professor I just..." She trailed off.

 

"I understand completely Miss Granger. Come, let's have some tea. Have you decided what you plan to continue with in your Newts?" He asked and summoned a House Elf to bring them tea.

 

"I'd like to take everything, but I realize that's probably not advisable." She sighed.

 

"I would suggest paring it down to seven." Severus said.

 

Hermione nodded and tried to swallow down her disappointment at missing out on a perfect score. "I'll continue with Charms, DADA, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Herbology, Potions, and Transfigurations. I'd like to do history as well, but I doubt that Binns will have improved any over the last five years." She sighed a bit.

 

"They really need to exorcise him." Severus agreed. "I took the same classes for my Newts. It is a demanding schedule, but I am certain you'll be able to handle it."

 

"Thank you Professor, for all of this." She said quietly after a moment. "I know without your help I would have died."

 

"I'm just pleased I was able to help. You've healed well, another week and you should be able to stop taking the potions all together. Mrs. Weasley has extended an invitation for you to join Harry and Ron at the Burrow for the rest of the summer, if you'd like to spend some time with them." He said, remembering his promise to Molly to pass along the message.

 

"My parents are away at a conference in New York, so I might take her up on that. Once my potions are finished." She said, realizing it would have to be after her meeting with the Dark Lord.

 

He nodded. "Very well. If you need anything this afternoon I will be in my lab working on some potions for the Infirmary."

 

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Alright Professor." She enjoyed the quiet tea time. After he left to work on his potions, she picked up the book on warding again and continued reading about blood wards. Unlike the books she'd been reading from the Library, this kind of warding did not require a wand. It involved using blood and the natural energy found in the earth. It was an old form of magic, tapping into the magic inherent in nature. This had possibilities for her family's home, once she was able to return. 

 

 


	4. Sink or Swim

o.o.O.o.o

 

Hermione watched her Professor leave on the night of the 19th, and she looked at the charm sitting in her hand. Her heart was pounding and she wanted nothing more than to throw it across the room and forget all about his letters and the offer, but she couldn’t. Too much depended on her. She needed to somehow make him understand that he didn’t need to kill Harry. The prophecy was a lie, there didn’t need to be a war. She felt tears stinging at her eyelids and she wrapped her hand around the charm and took a deep breath.

 

“Portus.” There was a sharp hook behind her navel and she was torn through space and deposited roughly on a carpeted floor. She was very disoriented and a hand entered her vision, wearing a black glove. She accepted the assistance and stood and froze as she saw who was attached to that hand.

 

“Good evening, Miss Granger.” Lucius Malfoy said with a slight upturn of his lips. Clearly delighting in her surprise and discomfort.

 

“Lord Malfoy.” She removed her hand from his grip and straightened.

 

“The Dark Lord saw fit to remove me from my incarceration, and leave someone else in my place.” He explained his presence to the befuddled young witch. “You are to change out of your muggle things, and put this on.” He turned away and grabbed a long garment box.

 

“There is a short note in the box explaining his orders. Once you are changed, we shall continue onwards.”

 

Hermione took the box and let her eyes travel the room. It was a bedroom, and there was a privacy screen in the corner. She headed over and slipped behind it before opening the box. On top of the pile of black fabric was a folded sheet of parchment. She unfolded the note, seeing Voldemort’s now familiar elegant script.

 

_Wear only the clothing in this box, nothing else. Leave any jewelry or adornments, except your wand, here with your muggle clothing. Lord Malfoy will then bring you to me. ~LV_

 

Hermione took a shaky breath and started to undress. She removed the locket her parents had given her, and the pretty silver ring she’d bought herself last summer. She swallowed and removed her under garments as well. Inside the box there was a black silk bustier and matching stockings, a black dress, and finely tailored black robes with silver embroidery and mother of pearl buttons. There was a pair of black boots at the bottom of the box with low heels. She finished dressing and then removed her hair tie, shaking her wild curls loose. She stepped out from behind the screen to see Lucius Malfoy sitting in a chair by the fire, patiently waiting. “I think I’m ready.” She said, trying to hide how utterly uncomfortable she felt.

 

Lucius stood and raked his eyes over her. “You’ll do, Miss Granger.” He walked over and pulled up the hood, adjusting it so it hid her face. “When we arrive, keep your head down as we walk through the room. It would be best that you are not recognized.” He said. “Now, take my arm.”

 

Hermione grabbed onto his arm, her legs feeling like she’d been hit with a jelly-legs curse. There was a bone-crushing sensation and they popped out into a crowded room. Hermione lowered her gaze to the floor, meekly allowing Lucius Malfoy to tuck her hand into his arm as he guided her through the mass of bodies, towards a raised platform at the front.

 

“Ah, our guest of honor has finally arrived. Excellent work, Lucius…I am most gratified.” He said. “I believe the young Lady is capable of walking the rest of the way unaided.”

 

Hermione was shaking as Lucius released her, and she was forced to mount the steps of the raised dais alone. She was still looking down, focusing on moving one foot in front of the other and not falling on her face. She could hear the buzz of whispers in the room as she came to stand in front of a man that she could only assume was the Dark Lord.

 

“Kneel, and prove your obedience to me.” His voice was cold as ice.

 

Hermione fell to her knees, overcome by a wave of pure terror. She could almost feel the barely contained malice in the room. A Gryffindor she might be, but at the moment it was taking all her courage not to turn and run.

 

“Lift your head, my dear. The faithful never need fear me, unless they have failed me in some way.” He said.

 

Hermione swallowed and lifted her head, unable to keep her eyes from widening in shock at the sight of him. He was not how Harry had described him. The man standing there, looking down at her, was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. His hair was inky black, styled carefully. His features were aristocratic and his eyes were the deepest blue, so dark they appeared almost black. She jumped as he reached out and brushed his fingers along her jaw.

 

“Tonight sees the addition of a new generation to our ranks, chosen not for her pristine blood, but for her sheer talent and power. This young witch was not born into our world, but she has embraced it with vigor and skill. She wishes to serve me, to prove her loyalty to her chosen world…to magic. She is one that our enemies will ever see coming, and her existence will be a carefully guarded secret.” He had angled her so that no one in the room could see her face. “My plans require stealth and discretion over the coming year. I will most harshly punish anyone that takes matters into their own hands, and reward those that show care and obedience. No unsanctioned attacks. Anyone that defies this order will find themselves wishing they were languishing in Azkaban. Everyone save for Lucius, and Severus….dismissed.” He said, eyes not straying from the young witch’s.

 

Hermione’s heart was pounding frantically as she heard the shuffle of feet. The unsettling feeling of Voldemort’s fingertips stroking along her jaw continuing until he flicked his eyes away from her, only then dropping his hand.

 

“Lower your hood, my dear.” He ordered her, not looking at the teenaged girl on her knees. His eyes were fixed on Severus.

 

Hermione pulled her hood back, turning her head slightly to see her Professor pale dramatically. She looked up at Voldemort again. 

 

“Do you offer me your obedience, Miss Granger?” He asked, looking back to her.

 

“Under the terms you proposed, I offer my obedience to you…my Lord.” She made herself say at the end of the sentence.

 

“Lucius, Miss Granger’s muggle parents live just outside London. You will undertake the laying of protective wards at their home and place of business. You will procure two emergency portkeys, so that in the case of trouble they can be taken to safety. I wish that done by week’s end.” He said to Lucius.

 

Lucius bowed deeply. “As you wish, my Lord.”

 

“This is the address.” He offered a piece of paper to Lucius. “Now go.” He sent him off. “I imagine you are somewhat…shocked Severus.”

 

Severus swallowed and inclined his head very slightly. “It was quite unexpected, my Lord.”

 

“It was meant to be.” The Dark Lord circled the kneeling witch. “She is powerful, talented, intelligent, and now…mine. I offered her what Albus in his arrogance chose not to, protection, safety for those she loves, and a place in our world. I will teach her things that she does not yet even know are possible, and all she needs to do is come to my hand willingly. I offered much the same to you once, did I not?” He asked his spy.

 

“You did, my Lord.”

 

“And yet, I also took from you. I did offer to spare her Severus, three times I asked her to step aside. I know that in killing her I may have truly lost you. I do not desire the boy’s death any longer, I swear that to you. I have promised the girl that I will never ask her to act against him. Harry Potter is not what Dumbledore thinks. I spent time inside his head Severus, there is so much rage…so much darkness. He is more like us than anyone knows.” He walked down the dais steps and reached out, cupping Severus’ face in his hand. “Albus cannot know of the events of tonight, nor of my revelations about Harry. Both of their lives would be greatly endangered if he were to even suspect it. I need your word Severus.” He said, voice deceptively soft.

 

Severus looked at his master, and then nodded. “I swear on my magic to protect these secrets from Albus Dumbledore, to the very best of my ability.” He knew in that moment that any hesitation, or refusal would be his death tonight.

 

“Miss Granger, rise and come with us. I have a gift for you. Come along Severus.” Voldemort headed for a door off to the side.

 

Hermione stood, not able to meet her Professor’s eyes. She followed her new ‘master’ through the door and down a dimly lit hall. He opened another door at the end of the hall and descended down a stone staircase. The air was musty and damp as they went down, and Hermione’s apprehension rose the deeper they went. Another door at the bottom of the stairs opened into what Hermione could only describe as a torture chamber. She froze in the doorway, only moving forward when she felt her Professor give her a gentle push.

 

“Do come in, my dear. No need to be shy.” Voldemort smiled predatorily.

 

“Why are we down here?” She asked, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

 

“Come here.” He offered her a hand.

 

Hermione walked forward, and made herself take his hand.

 

“Tsk tsk,” He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Your hand is like ice, sweet child.” He drew her forward, in front of a cell. Inside, bound and gagged, was Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge. “How do you like your present, Hermione?” His voice all but caressed her name as he stepped up behind her, lips very close to her ear.

 

“I don’t understand.” She shook her head a little.

 

“I think that you do.” He pressed a little. “Consider this a test of your resolve.” He moved back suddenly. “Draw your wand, Miss Granger.” He commanded.

 

Hermione’s fingers found her wand and slipped it out of the pocket inside her robe. Her mind was screaming that this was wrong, that he couldn’t honestly want her to do what she thought he did.

 

“Did you know, what the Centaurs would do to her in the forest?” Voldemort asked, his eyes keen on her face. He saw a shadow pass through her eyes and he smiled. “Ah, so you did.”

 

“I knew it was possible.” She admitted. “I’d hoped, honestly, that they’d just kill her, but I didn’t care if they raped her first.” She felt like a monster just saying it out loud.

 

“Why? What did she do to earn such ire?” He stepped in closer, his hand at her hip and his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Tell me.”

 

“She tortured her students, she hurt Harry…threatened to use the Cruciatus curse on him.” She said, using the best excuses for her actions.

 

“What did she do to you?” He wrapped an arm around her waist from behind, drawing her against him. She was so petite, so breakable.

 

“She refused to let us learn…” She whispered quietly, feeling something break. “She risked my future for petty politics…and then had the nerve to punish us for finding other ways to learn what we had to.” She closed her eyes, feeling hot tears slip down her cheeks. “I wanted to make her hurt, suffer for that.” Hermione’s voice shook.

 

“You still do, don’t you Hermione? Open your eyes and look at her. She doesn’t even think you deserve to be holding that wand, you know? She thinks you’re some form of subhuman, unfit to learn magic at all. She’d call you a mudblood to your face if she wasn’t gagged.” Voldemort’s voice was seductive, wrapping around Hermione in the dark, dank room. “Don’t you want to show her how wrong she is? How powerful you are?”

 

“Yes.” She answered and felt him lift her wand hand up.

 

“The Cruciatus curse, like most dark curses, functions off pure intent, and the power of the caster. You have to want to hurt her, imagine her screaming in agony, and say the incantation. You know what it is.” He said, keeping her in the circle of his arms. “Show me that I was right, that you are the student I have waited for.”

 

Hermione swallowed and looked down at Umbridge. Even bound and gagged, there was fury in her piggish little eyes, disdain. She felt her anger rising and didn’t try to check it. Years of being told she’d never be good enough, no matter how hard she worked, or how brilliant her spells…she’d always be a filthy little mudblood. “Crucio.” She said, and she watched with a kind of morbid fascination as the witch contorted on the ground and screamed before it broke.

 

“An excellent first try, my dear. Most can’t even affect their target the first few times. Again, this time don’t fight it…let it flow through you.” He said, a strange edge in his voice.

 

“Crucio!” Hermione cast again, this time surrendering to the intense sensation running through her. In that moment it was like time ceased to exist. Umbridge’s spine bent and flexed, she could hear keening screams through the gag and yet she didn’t stop. It felt so good, made her feel powerful and strong…like there was nothing she could not do. She poured more of herself into the curse, leaning into it and then she was pulled sharply away.

 

Voldemort cupped the girl’s face in his hand. “My beautiful, powerful girl….you exceed any possible expectations I could have.” He whispered. “How do you feel?” He asked, seeing her pupils were blown wide, drunk off her first real taste of dark magic. 

 

“Incredible.” She whispered. “My skin is…singing.” She tried to put it into words.

 

He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “Now you must finish her.” He turned her back, making her look at the mewling, keening form of the older witch. She was lying in a puddle of her own urine, the curse having made her lose control of her bladder. “The incantation is Avada Kedavra…and again…you must mean it.”

 

The sight of the woman on the ground was like a bucket of cold water. She’d done that…reduced a human being to *that*. She tried to turn away but he was holding her fast. “Please….”

 

“That was not a request.” His fingers dung into her hip cruelly, drawing a sudden gasp of pain. “Do it now…or you will be punished.”

She swallowed and lifted her wand, trying to focus in on Umbridge. She tried to summon up her anger and hate again, but it was fighting her. “Avada Kedavra!” She said and there was some green light but it fizzled before it hit her.

 

“Try again, you have to mean it Hermione.” He said, releasing her hip.

 

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and remembered the pain when she’d had to write with the blood quill, the fear when she’d threatened Harry. She conjured up the memory of her in that hideous pink robe as she lectured them on Harry’s lies. She opened her eyes and spoke the words again, this time the spell hit true and the life leeched out of the woman’s eyes. It was like someone snuffing out a candle.

 

Voldemort smiled cruelly and looked over at Severus’ stoic face. “Bring her back upstairs once she’s ready.” He said and strode out of the room as he saw his new acquisition fall to her knees. She would learn…in time. He could be patient while she adjusted.

 

Hermione fell forward, retching onto the dirt floor. She felt a hand smoothing along her back, and someone holding her hair back while she was sick. She’d just murdered someone…tortured and killed them. She was a monster.

 

Severus vanished the vomit and gently pulled the young witch up and folded her into his arms, giving her the comfort he knew she’d need. The first time was the hardest, and the Dark Lord always ensured that his followers’ hands were just as bloody as his own. “Just breathe Miss Granger…just breathe.” He whispered softly.

 

It was a long time before she was able to pull back. She looked up at her Professor’s face, looking for the condemnation she knew she deserved, but finding nothing but sadness and concern. “I…”

 

“We will speak later. Right now you need to pull yourself back together. He waits for you upstairs. You’ve pleased him so far, but he’s not finished with you yet.” Severus said firmly. “Take a deep breath and center yourself.” He said and stood, drawing her up to her feet and casting a quick charm to clean the dirt off her robes.

 

Hermione swallowed thickly and tried to do what he was telling her. She just wanted to curl into a little ball and cry, but she couldn’t. She’d made her choice and he had to live with it, live with all of it. She headed upstairs, and by the time she reached the top of the staircase she was mentally exhausted. She just wanted to fall into bed and never get up again. 


End file.
